


Rollover Minutes

by romanticalgirl



Category: British Actor RPF, Hornblower RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-12-05 00:06:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/716601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Let your fingers do the walking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rollover Minutes

**Author's Note:**

> For the dear [](http://ladyhamilton.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://ladyhamilton.livejournal.com/)**ladyhamilton** for being a good sport, risking library fines and giving good Ioan.
> 
> Originally posted 7-10-06

“It would be nice, I think, to have a little warning.”

Jamie’s voice sounds as close over the phone as if he’s lying next to Ioan in bed, the sound low and husky and warm. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Gruffudd. I always give you fair warning.”

Usually in raspy pleas that end in Ioan sucking harder, hands squeezing Jamie’s arse, tongue pressing up against Jamie’s cock. “Save for when I’m wandering through a bookstore and find myself staring at you on the cover of a magazine.”

“Ah.”

“Yes.” Ioan smiles, relishing Jamie’s soft chuckle, feeling the frisson of desire it sends coursing down his spine. “Ah.”

“Out in the states, is it?”

“Out being, of course, the operative word.” He shifts the phone to his other ear, shifts on the bed, the sheets clinging warming against his skin. “Something you have to tell me, Bamber?”

“If you’ve not worked _that_ out for yourself yet, Ioan, you’re far more naïve than your Mum ever suspected.”

“Just didn’t know you planned on telling the world.”

“So you actually didn’t _read_ the article, so much as see my picture, stick it between two girlie magazines, buy it and then wank off to the centerfold?”

“Well, not quite that. Wanked off to the cover shot.” He smiles again, unsure that he’s actually managed to _stop_ , and wonders briefly if Jamie’s doing the same. “You look good.”

“Make-up artists and stylists.” Jamie’s voice shifts slightly and Ioan can tell he’s embarrassed, can imagine the flush staining Jamie’s fair skin.

“You’re going to have to get over all that. TV Guide’s sexiest man, gay icon, cover boy. Pretty soon you’ll be appearing in people engaged to Jessica Alba and cheating on her with Angelina Jolie.”

“I should be so lucky.”

“Er, no, actually. You forget, I actually _know_ Jessica Alba.”

Jamie laughs and Ioan closes his eyes, his body reacting to the sound. It’s late, and he knows tomorrow’s a working day, but he needs this, wants it more than he usually allows himself to think.

“So, other than wanking off to the cover shot, what are you up to?”

“That was hours ago.” Ioan holds his breath for a moment then exhales slowly. “Right now I’m just lying here.”

“Here?” Jamie’s voice drops, his accent thickening. “Where’s here?”

“In bed. On the bed.” He swallows hard and lets his hand drift down, grazing over his stomach, feather-light touches as soft as Jamie’s voice in his ear.

“Sprawled out, Ioan? Hogging all the available space?” Ioan hears the shift in his voice, the hunger. “Legs spread?”

He licks his lips and closes his eyes, rubbing the hand that doesn’t hold the phone against the sheet. “Jamie…”

“Are you hard for me, Ioan?”

Ioan groans at the words and the tone, hips rising off the bed. Jamie’s voice thick and throaty, and Ioan imagines his eyes, the sharp blue beneath hooded lids. He remembers parted lips and warm tongue. “Yes. God, Jamie. Yes.”

“What are you wearing? What did you wear to call me?”

“No…nothing.” It’s a lie, his boxer-briefs are tight against his cock and he wants them gone, but the hitch in Jamie’s breathing is worth it. He eases the fabric over his erection and manages to get the boxer-briefs down his thighs. “What are you wearing, Jamie?” He knows what Jamie sleeps in, knows Jamie should be in bed. The grey t-shirt from the pub in Portugal, the one where Ioan sucked him off after closing while Sam felt up the waitress in the back room and worn pajama bottoms that were threadbare enough to be see-through. “Tell me?”

Jamie’s breathing is loud in the phone and Ioan bites back a groan. “I’ve got a sheet on.” The low rumble of laughter forces the groan from Ioan’s lips and he closes his eyes, swallowing hard. “Was lying in bed thinking about you when you called. Naked and hard and wanting.”

“Jesus,” Ioan breathes shakily, sucking on his lower lip, biting it in an effort to gain some modicum of control. “Jesus.”

“Thinking about what I’d do to you if you were here.”

“What…” Ioan swallows twice, searching for his voice. “What would you do to me?”

Jamie’s voice teases him in lieu of his fingers, his tongue. “You want me to tell you, Ioan?”

“Want you to fuck me, Jamie.” It’s what he wants, what he needs, but he’ll settle for the telling. “Want to taste you and feel you.” He can hear the desperation in his voice and can’t help it. He’s thought of nothing else since seeing the magazine, and as close as Jamie sounds on the phone, Ioan wants him closer. “Want you inside me.”

This time the groan comes from Jamie, his voice breathy. “Tell me.” He pauses and Ioan can hear or imagines the shift of his body, the touch of his hand against the velvet smoothness of Jamie’s cock. “Tell me what you want, Ioan.”

He can’t help the soft Welsh curse that he utters any more than he can help curving his hand around his shaft. Jamie knows him too fucking well. “Did. I told you.” His hand moves slowly, he knows Jamie’s just begun and he wants to ride it out, wants to last. “Want you inside me.”

“How?” There’s a low thrum in Jamie’s voice and Ioan’s teeth sink into his lower lip, biting hard until he thinks he might taste blood. “How should I fuck you, Ioan?” Ioan’s soft whimper earns him a low laugh from Jamie, breathless and hot. “Shall I lay you down, Ioan? Shall I kiss you as I spread your legs and slide inside you, fuck you slow and easy?”

“Jamie.” He’s given up the pretense of breathing, the thought of control. His hand moves of its own accord, remembering the feel of Jamie’s hand on him. “Yes.”

“Or shall I sprawl out on your bed and slide you down slowly? Let you sink down onto my cock?”

Ioan’s voice deserts him as his thumb sweeps across the head of his cock, painting it sticky wet, wanting more. His body tightens at Jamie’s words, the need to feel heat and thickness inside him like a drug. “Want you,” he pants roughly. “So much.”

There’s silence that’s not quiet at all, the rough rasp of Jamie’s breath filling Ioan’s ear, the familiar sounds of his voice, soft and whispering in his ear as they make love. “Or…” Jamie pauses and Ioan can hear the hitch that means he’s close, the sound sending a surge through Ioan that threatens to send him over the edge. “Should I bend you over your dresser? Let you watch in the mirror? You like to watch, don’t you, Ioan? Want to see me slide inside you? Want to watch me as I fuck you?”

“God,” Ioan gasps, his hips lifting off the bed. Heat spills against his hand, the pulse of his orgasm matching the rapid beat of his blood. White light floods his vision and he closes his eyes, fighting to remember how to breath as his body continues to convulse, jerk in reaction, Jamie’s voice still rough and desperate in his ear.

“…come for me. Want to watch you come for me.”

“Feel so good inside me, Jamie.” Ioan’s voice picks up where Jamie’s fades off, his breathing strained. “So thick and hard and deep. Want more, Jamie. Want it all. Deeper and harder…” He hears the telltale hitch, can sense the shudder as Jamie comes, closes his eyes and feels the rush of heat and the heavy weight and thrust of Jamie as he pushes inside one last time. “Yes.”

They both lie there, breath filling the miles between them. Ioan releases his cock and whimpers, the skin alive with sensation. His whole body jerks, stomach muscles clenching, and he closes his eyes, sated but not satisfied.

“So, you liked the pictures then?”

“Picture,” Ioan reminds him. “Couldn’t get past the cover.” Jamie laughs and Ioan joins in before breaking the soft sound. “When?”

“Soon.”

“Not soon enough.” Ioan nods, though he knows Jamie can’t see. “I’ll be in Vancouver in August. Neighboring lot.” He hears Jamie sigh softly, tastes the anticipation. Sated is good, satisfaction is better. “I’ll see you soon, Jamie.”

It’s Jamie’s turn to laugh, and it’s the last sound Ioan hears as he drifts off to sleep. “As you say, Gruffudd. Not soon enough.”  



End file.
